A Slaughtered Lamb
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: Challenge WOW: Blanket Castiel meets rohypnol and some nasty SOBs in an alley. And the one he wants to save him? Dean. RATED M FOR SEXUAL ABUSE! No slash intended. please R&R if u dont want me dead!
1. Chapter 1

--**WARNING: RATED M FOR SEXUAL ABUSE **ok, so there's a 90 percent chance I'm going to Hell for writing this, but if u like it, then ok :) No slash!

Challenge WOW: Blanket--

**A Slaughtered Lamb**

He took a drink from the glass the bartender had slid down the worn bar. He didn't drink much, hardly ever. Actually, this was the third time he had. But he was stressed, and if he drank enough of this it might take some of the edge off.

He drank almost the entire beer before he started to feel funny. The room swayed back and forth, sounds becoming muddled and distorted. He stood, throwing the first bill he grabbed onto the bar and tried to gain his balance. He was unsuccessful. He staggered out, feeling dizzy and nauseated. The cold night air slammed into his face, only making his disoriented state worse.

The night had blanketed the city in darkness. He wished he could see. He wished he knew where Sam and Dean were at so he could go there right now. They would understand what was wrong with him. He stumbled into the alley next to the bar, reaching for his phone.

The screen wouldn't focus; he couldn't see!

His stomach turned, pain coming to the forefront of his head.

He grunted, trying to force this human body to concentrate. Seven numbers, that's all he needed, seven numbers.

He started to dial and something hit his back, hard, taking him off guard. He fell, hard, his face hitting the asphalt.

His phone was knocked away, out of sight, out of reach. No hope.

"Looks like he got our drink, boys." A voice above him said. He was dragged by his hair deeper into the alley, the shadows, away from people. He could barely register what was happening to him. He was dropped to the asphalt again. Laughter filled his ears when he cried out. He wished his vision would clear so he could at least see straight. He heard fabric tearing. His trench coat and blazer were pulled away. His belt was torn away from his pants so hard it broke each loop. He struggled against strong hands, trying to push himself up. A knee in his back sent him back on the ground.

"No! Don't!" He grunted. His shirt was ripped off, buttons flying. His tie was loosened from his neck and tightened in his mouth.

He didn't know what they were doing. He grew scared very quickly, especially when his hands were tied with his own belt and his pants were ripped away. He tried fighting them. He tried not to whimper and shake in fear. But he didn't know what to do. He didn't even know what they were going to do to him.

"Hold still, hold still!" One barked, breathing in his ear and holding a knife to his neck. "You scream and I'll cut you." He hissed.

"P-please." He tried to say, but the gag -his tie- made it impossible.

Cold, rough hands held his hips too hard. He cried out, writhing weakly to get away from them. The others were jeering and egging him on, laughing at the tears that welled in the angel's eyes.

He didn't understand what was going to happen, but he knew it wasn't good.

"I'm gonna fuck you good, blue eyes." The man hissed.

A pain unlike anything Castiel had ever felt tore through his body, blinding him. He screamed against his will, and soon after he did the blade was pressed to his cheek. He was cut no more than a second later.

The awful agony continued. He started bleeding from the force of the man's thrusts.

Tears fell easily down his cheeks as he was violated, the man's grunts and moans in his ears, hot breath on his neck.

"Dean," He whimpered between sobs. "Dean, p-please help me!"

A hand ran over his tense muscles, the other cupping his neck, squeezing slightly harder as the man's experience intensified.

The laughter around him made him feel ashamed, like he had done something wrong. The cold stone pressed against his cheek, absorbing his tears.

The man kissed his neck and ears, soft, unwanted touches covered his back and face.

"No m-more. N-no more, please!" But they couldn't hear him. "D-Dean, D-D-Dean…" He said the name over and over again, knowing he was the only one that could save him from…from whatever was happening to him right now.

The pain and the cold made his situation unbearable. He was humiliated and broken. His innocence was being ripped away with each thrust, which were growing more rapid.

It would never end, he was very sure of that.

He sobbed hard, his cries muffled. He prayed to a father that never answered and to brothers that wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire. And it was this knowledge that made him cry Dean's name. Dean would be there for him, even if it was too late.

Whatever they had given him in his drink still hadn't worn off. He was still dizzy and disoriented. And the worst part of it, he couldn't move anymore. His body felt like it weighed so much more than it did.

And the constant pain throughout his whole body, his physical being, his heart and his mind. This man was taking something from him, something important.

"So good, so good…" The man moaned. Castiel shuddered and fought a burning substance that had come up in his throat. He turned his face into the hard ground when the lips came for his face again.

"No, no, no, n-no," He whimpered, trembling. He felt like a coward, but there was nothing he could do, nothing. "D-Dean. Pl-please…"

The man shuddered and did something Castiel didn't recognize inside him. He didn't like it. The man pulled out, making the angel yelp in pain and cry. He heard a zipper close and a chuckle under heavy breathing.

"Alright, boys," He growled dangerously. "Who's next?"

* * *

It took a long time for Castiel to try and move. He dragged himself –using his torso- toward where his clothes were, where his phone was.

He got about five feet away from his coat and collapsed next to his phone, which was smashed. His chest and knees were scraped, stinging and adding to his agony.

He sobbed, twisting his raw wrists and biting into the gag. He'd never been so humiliated. So scared, so very very scared.

He heard footsteps at the end of the alley, coming toward him.

He knew it was them. Or at least one of them. The one that had violated him first. The one with the knife. The one that called him blue eyes.

He cried frantically, huddling into a ball, crying in horrible fear.

"Shit!" The person said once they were close enough. They bent down next to him. He clamped his eyes shut, whimpering, hiding.

The belt came off of his burning wrists, the gag was carefully loosened and taken away from his mouth. He tried harder to get away from this person. They were going to hurt him, he knew it. Because he was this vulnerable, this broken, his naked body shaking in the bitter cold, they would. They would because it was too easy.

"Hey, hey, easy, Cas, look at me." He knew that voice. He hardly dared to believe who was speaking to him. But when he opened his eyes he saw what he'd been praying for.

"D-Dean?" His voice was small and feeble, like a scared child's.

That's what Dean saw in his eyes, a deep innocence and fear. He scooped Castiel's freezing body into his arms, holding him tight.

"I'm here, Cas. I'm here." He assured softly.

"Dean…Dean…" He sobbed. Dean looked at him steadily, still holding him to keep him warm.

"Cas, what happened to you?"

Tbc…

--C?!?! Hell for me! Please r&r--


	2. Chapter 2

--**NO SLASH!!!!!** I know, it's hard to believe, right?--

**A Slaughtered Lamb**

Dean got out of the Impala, pulling his jacket a little tighter around him in the freezing air, watching Sam go ahead of him into the bar. The bar itself was so packed Dean had to take the last spot at the edge of the building, right next to an alleyway that led to God knows where.

He started to follow his brother but stopped short. He heard a small noise, crying. Someone was crying.

His brows furrowed and he doubled back, looking down the dark alley. He saw things scattered across the ground, and a shaking figure curled in a ball. He walked toward the person warily. The ground was littered with clothes and pieces of torn fabric. The person shrank further into themselves, away from him. But when Dean was close enough, he recognized who it was.

Pale, trembling, his eyes closed and leaking tears, breath gasping, his hands bound tightly behind his back and a gag in his mouth, was his guardian angel.

"Shit!" Dean spat, shocked, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. He knelt down next to him and took the belt off of his hands. He coaxed the gag out of his mouth and tried to get Castiel to look at him. Castiel whimpered and tried to jerk his face away.

"Hey, hey, easy, Cas, look at me." He urged. Castiel's eyes opened, bloodshot and swimming with tears. Dean's heart clenched. He looked so scared and hurt and confused. The wounded blue eyes lit up when they recognized him.

"D-Dean?" His words shook as much as he was. Dean hugged him, horrified by how cold he was.

"I'm here, Cas, I'm here." He assured. Castiel sobbed hard, saying his name over and over again, like it was all he had left in the world. He lifted the angel's face, gaining his focus.

"Cas, what happened to you?"

He looked at him, helpless. "I don't know," His voice was raw. "I d-don't know, Dean."

"Shh…okay. Okay, it's alright, Cas. You don't have to tell me-"

"N-no. I d-don't know wh-what they d-d-did, Dean." He sobbed. Dean licked his lips, sighing.

"Show me, Cas," He said gently. "Show me what happened so I can help you."

Castiel hesitated, biting his lip, tears falling slightly faster. What if Dean thought he had done something wrong? What if he _had_ done something wrong?

"It's okay, Cas." Castiel shut his eyes and touched Dean's forehead.

Dean's brow furrowed, his eyes closed, as he watched what had happened through Castiel's eyes. Laughter and horrible touches that made him whimper and cry, his dizzying sight that made it hard to really see anything. And he tried hard to fight, but his body wouldn't listen.

Lips forcibly connected with his own, knees in his thighs, hands pressing too hard on his arms.

"P-please. Please!" The gag was shoved back in his mouth. Hands slid down, grasping what Castiel prayed he would let go of. He moaned, frantic, shaking his head hard.

"Stop…please…" But it didn't. It wouldn't stop. Dean watched it all.

And when he came to, he gasped, opening his eyes and blinking away tears.

Castiel's hand fell. He looked at Dean fearfully. He was so sure he had done something wrong…

Dean blinked a few times and swallowed, hugging Castiel tighter than before.

"D-did I do so-something wr-wrong?" Castiel whimpered. Dean winced, horrified.

"No, god no, Cas, you didn't do _anything_ wrong. That wasn't your fault, alright?" Castiel sobbed in relief.

"Wh-what did they d-d-do to m-me?" He gulped. Dean winced deeply, wanting desperately not to answer. There was so much in this world that Castiel didn't understand. He was so naïve and innocent, and now he was hurt because of it.

"They…they raped you, Cas." He whispered. "Okay, I'm gonna get you out of here, alright? I'll get you somewhere warm." Castiel was huddled against him, crying into his neck. He couldn't believe these monsters would leave him here in December. He swallowed again. He looked over Castiel's shoulder, at the shattered cell phone and his fallen trench coat. He stretched out his arm and grabbed it, draping it over Castiel's shoulders. The angel sighed, once again, crying in relief. He had some of his dignity back.

"It's okay, it's okay. C'mon, Cas, c'mon," He said, hoisting him up. Castiel made an attempt to help Dean support him, but he shook his head. "I got you, Cas. I've got you, don't help. It's okay."

Castile went limp, his tired body begging for mercy.

Dean got Castiel into the Impala, which was still warm from it's short time of being turned off. He covered him up with a blanket, tucking it tightly around him. Castiel shivered, his teeth chattering loudly. Dean was pretty sure he had Hypothermia.

"Alright, Cas, I'll be right back. I gotta get Sam, okay? I'll be _right_ back." Castiel looked at him, pleading.

"P-please, Dean. Please, do-don't leave m-me." He begged. Dean put his hand on Castiel's forehead in an attempt to soothe him.

"Shh, hey, it's okay. I'll be back in just a second, alright? I'm not leavin' you, Cas." He promised.

He turned on the car and the heaters, assured the angel one last time and ran into the bar.

Sam was startled when he saw how frantic he was, and even more so when he yanked him off of the barstool and out the door.

"Dean, what the hell is going on?!" He exclaimed, jerking away from him once they had reached the parking lot.

Cas is hurt, Sam. And it's bad, it's real bad."

"What happened?" Sam asked. Dean sighed, licking his lips and running his hand over his face.

"Four guys spiked his drink while he was in there…he didn't really know what was going on. He came out here…Tryin' to call us…they jumped him. And…and they raped him, Sammy." He said quietly. Sam just stood there for a moment, deciphering what Dean had told him.

"He's been out here for the past few hours," Dean continued. "He's in the car now." Sam shook his head.

"There was no way for him to fight back," He said. "Not if he was drugged." He sounded like he was trying to understand.

'Sam, I gotta get back to him. We've gotta get him outta here." Sam nodded.

Dean jogged toward the Impala.

Castiel jumped when the door opened. And he got very scared when someone touched him. He whimpered and tried to get away.

"No! Please, p-please, no. Pl-please!"

"Cas, Cas, it's okay! Relax, shh…" Dean soothed. Castiel gave a dry sob. He recognized the voice.

Dean carefully lifted him up, slid into the seat and gently lowered his head into his lap. Castiel hugged him, burying his face in his stomach.

"Sh…Its okay, it's alright now. Just rest." Dean said, tugging the blanket over his shoulder. Sam pulled out of the parking lot, speeding down the road.

Castiel saw faces. Hungry faces. Laughing faces. He felt so many hands touching him everywhere, yanking his limbs, rolling him over, shoving him down. Lips all over his body. And the pain. No matter what they did it hurt. He shrunk against Dean, sobbing.

"I know, Cas, I know. Shh…" Dean soothed, rubbing the back of his head. Castiel whimpered, stinging tears leaking from his eyes. "Almost there, Castiel, almost there."

It seemed like forever to Castiel. In reality it was only ten minutes.

Sam out the car in park and looked back at Dean through the rearview mirror. He looked down at Castiel, who was still crying and cold.

"It won't go away, D-Dean." He choked.

"It will," Dean assured. "I swear it will. We're gonna get you cleaned up, okay? It's gonna be alright."

Sam got out of the car, sighing. He looked up at the sky, watching white flakes slowly drift their way down.

_Great,_ He thought. _Snow._

_--_Thank you. More soon!--


	3. Chapter 3

**A Slaughtered Lamb**

Castiel kept his eyes closed and his face in Dean's chest on the short journey to the motel room.

Dean gently lowered him onto the bed. He was shaking violently, his lips a pale blue. He looked at Dean with fear in his eyes.

"D-Dean wh-what's wr-wrong w-with me?" He asked through his chattering teeth.

"You've got Hypothermia, buddy," Dean said. He looked at Sam, who nodded and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Dean carefully lifted Castiel up into a sitting position, hugging him. The angel leaned as close to him as he could get, just wanting to get warm. "It's gonna be okay. We'll get you warm, Cas. It's alright, shh…"

"Wh-why am I, I so co-cold?" He whimpered.

"You were outside too long, Cas," Dean explained. "Your vessel can't take that temperature, okay?" Castiel sobbed very quietly, still shaking. Dean hoisted him up and headed toward the bathroom. He pulled the blanket off of his shoulders. Castiel whimpered, bowing his head. His dignity was gone again.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean said, hugging him again. "It'll be over soon, okay?" Castiel was crying again. "Shh, I know, I know. I'm sorry…" Dean assured. He carefully put Castiel into the tub. The angel's eyes grew wide and he gasped when the warm water touched his skin. He moaned in surprise, huddling over his knees into the water. Dean rubbed his back, his other hand holding him up.

"Are you getting warmer?" He asked quietly. Castiel nodded, still shuddering. The color was returning to Castiel's face and his body. He was getting feeling back in his numb fingers. After a few minutes, Dean shut the water off and toweled Castiel off.

"You feel a little better?" He asked. Castiel nodded. "Okay, okay, c'mon, buddy. C'mon."

He lifted Castiel up, replacing the blanket around him. He lied him back on the bed.

"Alright, lie on your stomach, Cas." He said softly. The angel whimpered as Dean guided him into that position.

He got scared, he got very scared. Flashes of the icy night and rough hands made his heart pound rapidly. No, Dean wouldn't do this. And if…if he did, who would help him then? He had no one. He would be helpless and alone. He only had one option, beg.

"Please," He breathed, fear and tears clogging his throat. "Please, D-Dean, do-don't." It took Dean a moment to understand what the angel meant. He thought he was…that he…

"Hey, hey, hey, Cas, no," He turned his face, meeting his eyes. "I would _never, ever_ do anything like that to you. I swear. I gotta fix you up, okay? I'm _not_ gonna hurt you, Cas. I promise."

He kept his eyes locked with the angel's, slowly rubbing the back of his head, until he nodded.

Castiel whimpered and winced while Dean cleaned him up. He trembled and tried very, very hard not to cry. But the pain was too much. He started sobbing softly.

"I know, buddy, I know. Shh…It's okay. Almost done, almost done. Shh…"

He tried reminding himself that Dean wasn't hurting him. He wasn't touching him to hurt him. He was helping him. He was helping him, he was helping him…

"Okay, Cas, almost done." He rolled him over and covered him up. He looked at the scrapes on his chest and the cut on his cheek and another above his eye. He tipped the bottle of peroxide onto a rag. "Alright, Cas, this is gonna sting, okay?" He pressed the rag to the wounds on his chest.

Castiel hissed in pain, his muscles tensing. He wanted it to stop hurting. He wanted the pain to go away. He just wanted it to stop. He was so tired, so weak, and still cold. He groaned when the rag touched his eye.

"N-no more, Dean. Pl-please no m-more." He pleaded.

"Shh…" Dean rubbed his forehead. "It's alright. Just a little while longer, okay?"

Dean was true to his word. He only took a few more minutes dressing the wounds.

"Okay, all done. I'm done. No more, okay?" He looked over his shoulder at his younger brother, who had been helping when he could.

"Can you get him some clothes, Sammy?" He asked quietly. Sam nodded and went to their bag.

Dean was holding Castiel's hand, reassuring him over and over again that it was okay.

Sam handed him a small pile of clothes, to which Dean muttered his thanks. Sam stepped back, not really sure what to do with himself.

"Okay, Cas," Dean said. "I'm gonna get you dressed, alright? Just relax, okay?" The angel nodded wearily.

Dean was very gentle with him, handling him carefully so he didn't tear his stitches.

"Thank you." Castiel whispered once Dean had slipped the t-shirt over his head. He wasn't vulnerable anymore. He wasn't exposed. They couldn't get to him now. He felt safe.

Dean looked at him steadily, directly in his eyes.

"Cas, are you okay?" He asked gently. Castiel looked at him, sky blue eyes brighter with tears, lips shaking. Tears started trekking down his cheeks.

"N-no." He breathed. Dean bit his lip, hating seeing Castiel in so much pain. He hugged him close, trying to make sure he didn't feel alienated. Castiel hugged him back, tight.

Dean could save him from the images plaguing his mind. Dean could make them go away because Dean could fight anything.

"D-Dean?" Castiel whimpered. "Am, am I n-not a vir-virgin anymore?"

The force of his words was like a punch in the stomach. Tears that he refused to let fall welled in his eyes.

"Oh God, Cas," He whispered. "That's not something they can take. It's something you have to give."

"B-but-" Castiel was confused again. "B-but I th-thought-"

"Hey," He took the angel's face in his hands. "Don't let them take it from you, Cas. Don't you give it to him. Don't let them win, okay?"

Castiel nodded.

"I wo-won't." He sniffed. Dean held him for another long time before he spoke again.

"Dean?" He choked. "Do-does…does inter-in-intercourse always f-fee-feel like th-that? Does it-it hurt?" Dean shook his head, feeling an invisible force squeeze his heart.

"No, Cas. It doesn't hurt, buddy. It…it feels good. It's a good thing, okay? It _does not_ feel like what those men did to you, alright?" Castiel nodded feebly.

"Okay, o-okay." He breathed.

"You need to sleep, Cas, okay? You're beyond worn out." He whispered.

"Am I dr-dreaming, D-D-Dean?" He stammered. Dean hesitated.

"No, Cas, you're not. I wish it was a dream, buddy. I really do." Castiel wouldn't let him let him go. Dean didn't mind. If Castiel needed him he'd do whatever it took to help him.

"Shh…It's okay, Cas, just sleep, okay? Shhh…" He slowly rocked Castiel back and forth, trying to relax his friend.

"I'm right here, Cas…Right here, shh…" Slowly, Castiel's eyes drooped. He pushed past the memories and pain and tried to focus solely on Dean's words.

"Just sleep, Cas, okay? All you have to do is rest. Shh…" Castiel fell asleep, slipping into a peaceful oblivion.

Dean didn't let him go. He held onto him, keeping his word that he was there.

"I'm gonna find these guys, Cas. I'm gonna find 'em, and I swear to you, I will kill them."

--Aww, poor Cas :'(--


	4. Chapter 4

-**WARNING:** Strong language ahead!--

**A Slaughtered Lamb**

Dean lied Castiel down when Sam came back in, being careful and making sure the change in position didn't wake him.

"I need you to stay here with him, Sam." He whispered, standing.

"What?" Sam blanched. "Why? Where are you going?" He asked.

"Shh!" Dean hissed, glancing back at Castiel, who hadn't stirred. "I'm gonna go find the assholes that did this to him."

"What are you gonna do?" Sam asked quietly. Dean flexed his jaw and clenched his fists.

"I don't know." He said truthfully. Sam looked at him, worried.

"Dean, just…be careful, okay? I mean, there were four of 'em right?" He asked. Dean nodded solemnly. "Just make sure they don't get the drop on-"

"Sam, I've taken seven ghosts at once by myself and kicked their asses with a hand behind my back. Four guys who think they do this to someone and get away with it aren't gonna be a problem," He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, snatching his car keys off the table. "And they pissed me off, Sammy. They hurt one of my friends. They don't have a chance in Hell."

He left before Sam could say anything else. He sighed.

"Just be careful, Dean." He whispered. He looked back at Castiel, who was still sleeping soundly. Sam grabbed one of the rickety chairs that the Motel provided and sat next to him.

"He'll get these guys, Cas," He said. "He'll get 'em for what they did."

* * *

Dean walked into the bar he'd been in just a few hours ago, trying not to remember what he had found in the alley the last time he'd been here.

He walked up to the bar, intending on talking to the bartender he would have normally hit on. He smirked at her when she approached anyway. If he looked angry, or murderous she most likely wouldn't tell him what he needed to know.

"What can I get ya?" She asked, smiling flirtatiously.

"Actually, I needed to know if you saw some friends of mine. Big guys, four of 'em, kinda rowdy." He said casually. The pretty bartender looked around for a moment, then her eyes lit up.

"They're headin' out right now." She said. He dropped her a wink.

"That's, sweetheart." He said. She grinned.

"Any time."

* * *

Castiel stirred, whimpering a giving a dry sob.

"No, please, please, have mercy!" He cried. "Please! No, no! Oh, no please!" He sat up when Sam touched his shoulder to wake up. He sobbed, breathing hard, looking around the room to try and figure out where he was.

"Cas, it's okay, it's alright," Sam assured, touching his shoulder again. The angel looked at him. "It's okay, they can't hurt you anymore." He said gently, smiling lightly at him. Castiel took a few more deep breaths and looked around the room again.

"Wh-where's Dean?" He asked. Sam frowned, looking down for a moment.

"He'll, uh…he'll be right back, okay? He just had to run and get something." Castiel looked at him, his lower lip trembling, eyes overflowing with pain. It almost hurt Sam to look at him.

"He went to get them, didn't he? The ones that did this, he's gone to hurt them?" He asked softly. Sam nodded, unable to lie to him. Castiel shut his eyes, crying quietly. Sam sat next to him, trying to think of something to do. He didn't know Castiel that well. He'd hardly ever talked to him. But he had to do _something_.

Castiel fell against him, crying into his shoulder. Sam was startled for a moment, but soon hugged him, trying to soothe him.

"Shhshhh…It's alright, Cas. It's okay. Shh…"

Castiel didn't want Dean to hurt anyone. He didn't want him to act the way he did for those ten years in Hell. He didn't want him to kill someone.

_What if they hurt him too?_ He thought. His sobs worsened. _What if they do to him what they did to you?_ He shook his head. No, Dean could fight anything. They wouldn't be able to hurt him like that. Would they?

"Dean…" He sobbed, scared. "Dean…"

"He'll be back soon, Cas. It's okay."

* * *

As soon as he turned around the smile was gone. He felt anger burn in his stomach as he stared at the back of their heads. He followed them out and got into his car, trying his best to be conspicuous. He watched them pull out of the parking lot, laughing loudly like idiots.

He followed them. They drove out to a remote gravel road and pulled to a stop in the middle of it, no house or anything else. They'd noticed him. He got out of the car, registering the .45 that was in his waistband. They tumbled out of the truck, swaggering toward him.

"Can we help you with something asshole?" One yelled. Dean scowled at him. The one at the front smiled appreciatively at him.

"Mm, he might be able to help _us_, boys." He smirked. Dean swallowed bile that crept up his throat.

"I'm not that easy to get to. But when you drugged my friend I'm sure that was real easy." He growled. The men stopped a few feet in front of him. The man at the front chuckled.

"I see what this is. We hurt your fuck boy, is that it?" Dean's vision flashed red.

Quicker than the men could catch on to, he drew the .45 and shot the man in the knee.

The man screamed and fell to the ground. Before the others could do anything he shot three more times and they fell as well.

Dean walked up to the leader and kicked him in face. Leader grunted, his head flying back before Dean grabbed his hair and made him face him.

"How'd it feel, huh? How'd it feel hurting someone that can't fight you back, huh?!" He kicked him again. He moved to the bearded one.

"How 'bout you? Laughing while you touched him and he begged for you to stop? He didn't even know what the fuck you were doing!" He punched him, hard, over and over again. The man's face was bloodied by the time he let him go.

The skinny one to his right was trying to drag himself away. He kicked the man in his ribs, sending him on his back.

"Please!" Skinny choked. Dean sneered at him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and hoisting him up, making sure to dig his boot onto the bullet hole in his calf.

"Please? That word should be familiar to you. How many times did he say please, huh?" He punched his jaw. "Oh wait," Punch. "You couldn't hear him, could ya?!" Punch. "No, you didn't hear him begging you to show one shred of mercy," Punch. "You just kept rubbing against him to get off. You sick, disgusting mother fucker!" One last hit and Skinny fell, out cold. There was only one left. The fat one.

"And you," He snarled, kicking him in the face almost as hard as he could. The man stayed conscious. He knelt next to him. "How about I make you open your mouth? Huh? Or one of friends here? HUH?! What if they made you, let's see, what was it you told him? 'Swallow what they give you'?" Fat One looked at Dean, fear in his eyes. "I should kill you, I should kill every fuckin' one of you for what you did." He started kicking the man again, taking out every ounce of rage he had.

He went to Leader again, taking out his gun. He lifted his face and rested the barrel against the man's cheek.

"If I ever, _ever_ see your face, or any of their's again, I will slaughter you. And if you think I'm kiddin'," He plucked the switchblade that had fallen out of Leader's pocket off the ground and flipped it open. There was still blood on it. Without even flinching or looking away from his eyes, he drove it into Leader's shoulder as deep as he could get it. The man screamed. "Try me." He whispered. He let him go and walked toward the Impala, crushing Skinny's phone as he tried to reach for it. He drove away, not even bothering to look back.

--Payback's a bitch, ain't it? :)--


	5. Chapter 5

**A Slaughtered Lamb**

Castiel was still crying against the younger Winchester when Dean came back, his hands bruised and bloodied.

"Dean…" Castiel breathed.

_He's alright! He's alright, they didn't hurt him! He's okay, he's okay…_

Sam let him go and stood, moving to let Dean take his place.

"You didn't kill them, did you?" Sam whispered, grabbing his arm and stopping him in mid step. Dean shook his head.

"I wanted to," He said, glancing at Castiel. "But…I couldn't." Sam nodded, thankful.

Dean sat down next to his injured friend, noticing that the cuts and bruises on his face were almost gone.

"Dean," Castiel cried, hugging him tight. "I thought, I thought they would hurt you t-too."

"Hey," Dean said, lifting his face and giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay. Those assholes couldn't have hurt me if they tried, alright?"

"You-you didn't kill them, d-did you?" Castiel asked, his innocent eyes begging.

"No," Dean assured. "I didn't, Cas. I wanted to…god did I want to. But I couldn't. Not after…after those things I did." His voice ended in a whisper.

"Then, wh-what did you do to them?" He asked. Dean swallowed, clenching his jaw.

"They paid for it, alright? It's okay, now." He promised. The angel cried heavily.

"I just want it to go away, Dean," He sobbed. "I want it all to stop. It hurts, it hurts so much. And it's not physical agony, Dean. I wish it was," He cried harder. "My heart _hurts_. My mind hurts. And Ji-Jimmy-"

Dean winced internally. He'd completely forgotten that there was someone in this body besides Castiel.

"I've tr-tried to keep as m-much from him as-as I can. B-but…It hurt him t-too," Castiel's chest hurt at the thought. It wasn't just him crying, it wasn't just him dealing with all the pain and anguish, and it wasn't just him reliving those horrid memories. Jimmy was too. "I've already made him suffer so much. This…this isn't fair, Dean."

"Shh…It's not your fault, buddy. It's okay." Dean assured. Castiel continued to cry.

"Make it stop, Dean," He begged. "Please, please make it stop." Dean winced.

"I wish I could, Cas. I wish I could go back and stop it, but I can't. Shh…It's alright. Shh…" Castiel rested his face in Dean's neck, his shoulders heaving, sides contracting painfully.

"When will it end?" He whispered. "When does the agony end, Dean?"

"I…I don't know, Cas. But it will, okay? I promise it will. Shh..."

"I don't want to be afraid anymore." He cried.

"Shh…I'm here. I've got you, alright? And if you need me, for anything, I'm here, okay? It's gonna be okay, Cas," He promised. "It's all gonna be okay."

* * *

_**Three Months later…**_

He sighed and downed the shot in one gulp. The bar was loud, and it wasn't helping his headache. He'd had a long week, a very long week, and he just needed some time to wind down.

But his headache got steadily worse. And he was getting nauseous and dizzy. Very dizzy.

He stood, wondering if he would puke. The room spun and he teetered. He regained some of his balance and managed to stumble his way outside.

He ended up by his car, reaching for his cell phone to call Sam. The screen went in and out of focus but he couldn't see.

Something hard hit his back, catching him off guard. He fell on the hard ground, gasping.

His phone had fallen under the car and too far away. He was alone.

Someone grabbed his hair and hauled his face up. "Not so easy to get to, eh?" His blood ran cold. "Well, I guess this makes you a fucking liar, now doesn't it?" A hand was clasped over his mouth and he was dragged to the back of the bar, out of sight from anyone that might be passing. He struggled as much as he could, but the drug was settling in, making it nearly impossible for him to fight.

"You might as well not even bother," Leader grunted, throwing him to the ground. "You won't have hardly any fight in ya here in a minute." Dean struggled weakly anyway.

"No!" He grunted, squirming. His T-shirt was ripped away, leaving his flesh to touch the cold ground. A belt that wasn't his was tightened over his mouth, silencing him. His own belt was torn away, breaking the loops. His hands were bound behind his back, tight.

"You know why I'm doin' this?" Leader asked, right before driving his steel toed boot into Dean's ribs a few times, leaving him coughing and gasping for breath against the leather. "'Cause of what you did. We got your little fuck boy and we're gonna get you."

He bent back over him, yanking his jeans and boxers off, leaving him naked. Tears of frustration welled in the hunter's eyes. He couldn't move. He didn't have the chance to fight back. He was helpless. And that pissed him off. But he was too scared to really notice.

There was hot breath in his ear. "I'm gonna fuck you good, green eyes."

Dean screamed into the belt, the tears leaking from his eyes. Leader's thrusts were so hard the pain literally blinded him.

He continued to scream, in anger, pain and fear. Stinging tears slid down his cheeks.

"SAAA-AAAM!" He cried, like he had so many times before.

"Shut the fuck up!" A hand squeezed his throat, silencing him.

It was those words that turned Castiel's attention to the alley. He'd been standing by Dean's car, just finding his cell phone and realizing something was seriously wrong.

He went toward the alley, and when he reached it, he froze.

It was like watching a movie of the horrible things that had happened to him a few months ago. But the eyes that turned in his direction weren't his. They were green, they were Dean's, tear-filled and terrified.

"HEY!" Castiel yelled, not knowing what else to say. The four men's heads snapped in his direction. "GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Leader pulled out of Dean, making him sob, and zipped his pants, leaving Dean whimpering softly.

"That you, Blue Eyes?" He asked. Castiel swallowed, fear threatening to overcome him. But he looked at Dean again, those pleading eyes begging him for help.

"Do you know who I am?" He growled dangerously, walking toward them, any sign of fear gone. The men snickered. Castiel's glare deepened. Lightning flashed behind him and thunder rumbled, the shadow of his wings spread behind him. The men's eyes widened, turning to the cowards they were. "I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord. And I DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!" There was a magnificent light and the sounds of screaming. All that remained when it faded was dust.

Dean was trembling out of his control, utterly humiliated. Castiel bent down next to him, hands shaking as they unclasped the belt on his wrists.

"It's okay, Dean," He assured. "They're gone now, it's okay." He unfastened the belt over Dean's mouth and let it fall. He shrugged off his trench coat and wrapped it around Dean's shoulders.

"I'm okay," Dean croaked. "He didn't finish, I'm alright." Castiel shook his head at Dean's stubbornness and helped him stand. Dean he could hardly keep his balance. The drug was still working full swing, making it really hard for him to move.

"Just hang on to me, alright?" Castiel hugged him, and Dean hugged him back, in obvious pain.

He blinked and he was in the motel room, trying not to cry.

The angel took him into the bathroom, turning on the shower and trying to stay calm.

_Dean said they couldn't hurt him. He lied, he lied! _

"Okay, Dean, come here," He said gently. He carefully lifted Dean into the tub, knowing what it felt like. Unholy, dirty, disgusting, humiliated.

Dean welcomed the warm water, letting tears fall because Castiel wouldn't be able to tell the difference. He certainly felt cleaner when the water stopped. And he had stopped bleeding, which meant he didn't need stitches.

Castiel dried him off, ignoring Dean's assurances that he could do it, and got him dressed, once again ignoring his charge.

He gently lied him down on the bed and covered him up. Dean was staring at the ceiling, closed off, bottling it all up like usual.

"Dean, don't," Castiel said, turning his face. "Don't bury it. It'll only hurt more later."

"It's not a big deal, Cas," Dean said. But Castiel could see tears coming back to his eyes. "He didn't finish. And it wasn't even close to…to what happened to you." The angel winced.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked, trying to get past the lump in his throat and shove the tears in his eyes back.

"He's on his way back from helping Bobby with something. He tried to call you and you didn't pick up. That's why I went looking for you." Castiel said. Dean nodded, shutting his eyes and cursing the tear that fell when he did. The angel took the hunter's hand, trying to soothe him in some way.

"Dean, it's alright. He'll be here soon," Dean nodded again. "Dean, look at me…please." He opened his eyes.

"It wasn't even that bad, Cas," He assured. "Yours was bad, that was nothin-"

"Dean, stop," Castiel whispered. "Rape is rape. It doesn't matter how long it is, or what was done. It still hurts the same."

"It's nothing I can't handle." Dean assured. _Don't cry,_ He thought angrily. _Don't you dare cry!_

"Dean, it-"

"Don't you think they did that in Hell too?!" The tears fell unbridled now. He couldn't help it. He let the sobs come, relieving his throat and chest. "Don't you think they would hurt me that way too?! It's the most awful place ever imagined, of course they do that! They do it a lot…" He sobbed, turning his face away from the angel. "So when I say that was nothin', it was nothin'. I've had worse, Cas. I've had so much worse. And that was my fault. They did it because I hurt them. I shoulda just killed them." Dean cried into his pillow, turning away from the angel.

Castiel was in shock, hardly able to believe what he just said. That was why Dean understood. That was why he got as angry as he did. He touched Dean's shaking shoulder, also shocked that Dean was crying.

"I know how it feels, Dean," He whispered. "I know how much it hurts. And it's okay. It's going to be alright." Dean turned and looked up at him. Castiel's eyes grew and pain hit his heart. He'd never seen Dean so vulnerable. His face's mask had been ripped away, leaving it naked. His eyes were wide and innocent.

Castiel carefully hugged Dean, not wanting to scare him or make him pull away. Dean hugged him back, sobbing hard.

"Sammy…" He whimpered.

"He'll be here soon." Castiel assured, swallowing tears of his own. He knew what Dean was feeling. Exactly what he was feeling. And it hurt.

He cried with Dean, hugging him as tight as he could without hurting him.

"Thank you, Cas." Dean breathed.

"For what?" Castiel asked, tears in his voice.

"Being here."

It was only a few minutes after that that Sam opened the door. He stopped short at the scene that was before him. It looked like what had happened three months ago, but reversed.

"What happened?" He asked, making Dean and Castiel jump. Castiel let him go and went over to Sam. What he told him in a very quiet whisper made his legs start to fail him and his stomach flip.

"And they, they're dead, right?" He asked quietly. Castiel nodded. "Good."

"He's been asking for you," Castiel whispered. "I believe he needs you, Sam."

"Thank you." Sam said, before nearly running to his brother.

"Sammy…" Dean cried. Sam hugged him as tight as he could.

"It's alright, Dean. It's okay now. Shh…"

* * *

Castiel stood outside, staring at the night sky.

"Why would you let this happen, Father?" He asked. "Why would you make us suffer this way?" There was no answer. Of course there wasn't. He didn't even know where God _was_. Talking to him was a little meaningless. But he had to talk to something. God was supposed to be in Heaven, so that was where he was going to speak.

"Dean Winchester should not have to suffer any more than he already has. And now he is in pain, weeping. As you know that's not exactly in his character to do. Please, Father, relieve at least some of it. I don't care about mine. But please…"

He bowed his head.

"I do have pain, Father. I have terrible pain. And I am afraid that I might not be worthy to enter Heaven now. I am…I am impure. I can no longer be an angel…Can I?" Tears fell down his face. "I am so sorry, Father. Please forgive me. Forgive what I have done, please. I know I can never be pure again. I am tainted, and…and," He was sobbing now. He collapsed to his knees. "I don't know what to do, Father. I don't know how to repair what has been broken inside me. I do not know how to purify myself again. I cannot get rid of them, Father! Please…Help me, please…I am not worthy of your help, but…please, Father, I beg you…"

He shut his eyes, overcome by his sobs.

He felt someone hug him, hug him tight and close.

"_There is nothing to forgive, Castiel."_

He opened his eyes. The sensation was gone. He felt better, completely. His pain was gone. And there was nothing there. Absolutely nothing. Anywhere.

Castiel looked up.

**END**

--Idk, maybe it was a stupid ending...U tell me! Thanks to all who read! :) --


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